


Friday Night Bites Redux

by wheel_pen



Series: Daisy [4]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After dropping Caroline off at cheerleading practice, Damon chats with Daisy while watching Stefan play football; Daisy unexpectedly appears at Elena’s house, where Damon and Caroline have already interrupted Elena and Stefan’s meal with Bonnie; after being caught leaving Elena’s house late at night, Damon walks Daisy partway home, then follows her to learn her family secrets. “Darkness falls. I feel the wings of death brush my face. Bat wings.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday Night Bites Redux

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Daisy, my original character, moved to Mystic Falls about a year ago. There is something special about her.
> 
> 2\. This series begins with the first season of the TV show and completely diverges about halfway through the first season. Facts revealed later on the show might not make it into this series.
> 
> 3\. Underage warning: This series may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate being able to play in this universe.

            “Well, let’s ask Daisy what _she_ thinks,” a voice said, and Daisy turned to see Elena and Bonnie crossing the school lawn from the parking lot.

            “Is that my name being taken in vain?” Daisy joked. Bonnie still looked glum after her encounter with Stefan the night before; Elena’s glow indicated _her_ meeting with him had gone better.

            “Bonnie is now telling me to put on the brakes with Stefan,” Elena reported, affectionately exasperated at her friend.

            “How fast are you going?” Daisy checked.

            She rolled her eyes. “We just kissed! And talked. That’s all!” Thinking back on it she couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

            “She does seem happy with him,” Daisy remarked to Bonnie, looking over Elena clinically.

            “But that feeling I had about him last night—“ Bonnie reminded her, a troubled expression on her face.

            “Maybe you sensed something bad that happened _to_ him, that wasn’t his fault,” Daisy suggested to her. “His parents died, right? Maybe you’re picking up on that.”

            Clearly Bonnie didn’t really believe this. “So you think she should go for him?”

            “Guys, I’m right here,” Elena pointed out, her amusement undampened.

            “Well, all indications are he’s a nice guy,” Daisy noted thoughtfully. “Proceed with caution.”

            “Ha,” both girls said to each other simultaneously, each thinking Daisy had supported them.

            “Good morning,” Stefan greeted, coming up behind Elena. She smiled warmly in response.

            “I’m gonna go look for Caroline,” Bonnie announced abruptly, turning away. Elena looked hurt by her departure.

            “She doesn’t like me very much, does she?” Stefan noted with mild regret.

            “She just doesn’t know you,” Elena assured him.

            There was a slightly awkward pause as Elena’s body language indicated she wanted to be alone with Stefan. “Oh, hey, tree fungus,” Daisy said suddenly, walking away from them towards a beech tree on the lawn.

            Stefan stared after her. “She’s doing a collection project for Biology,” Elena explained, as they both watched Daisy carefully scrape something from the tree trunk into a plastic bag.

            “Oh.” Well, that made… sense.

 

            The room was tense as Mr. Tanner quizzed Stefan on the historical dates. There was something exciting, but also frightening, about a teacher who seemed to be going slightly off the rails—not a rare sight in this particular class.

            “Korean War,” Tanner snapped.

            “Nineteen fifty to fifty-three,” Stefan replied calmly.

            “Ha!” Tanner exclaimed triumphantly. “It was fifty-two!” It was a little sad to see a grown man, an authority figure, who felt he had to ‘win’ while his students lost.

            Especially when he was wrong. “Excuse me, sir,” Stefan said, more respectfully than the man deserved, “but it was nineteen fifty-three.”

            A shadow of doubt crossed over the man’s face. “Daisy!” he snapped.

            All eyes turned to the girl in the back corner, who had previously held the title of walking encyclopedia. “Armistice signed on July 27th, 1953,” she confirmed with a little shrug.

            Tanner let out a noise of frustration and turned away as the rest of the class began applauding, tentatively at first and then with increasing enthusiasm. Right at that moment the bell rang, releasing them before their teacher could retaliate by assigning them all extra homework.

            “That was amazing!” Elena gushed as they walked out. “How did you know all that?”

            “Years of crossword puzzles,” Stefan claimed modestly. “It’s a loner thing.”

            Elena looked back over her shoulder and made eye contact with Daisy, grinning a little. “That’s what _she_ always says.”

 

            After creating a small stir by dropping Caroline off at cheerleading practice after she’d skipped the whole day of school, Damon decided to hang around and perve on Elena for a bit—discreetly of course, didn’t want to distract Stefan from his football tryout, the little nerd. He had _clearly_ not thought that idea through—unless he was very careful, he’d get publicity for his skills, and in this electronic age, that would bring everyone who’d seen him in the past fifty years out of the woodwork. Which would be a problem for them both. Damon began working on a way to prevent this, which did not of course include simply pointing the disadvantage out to Stefan reasonably. He just didn’t play that way.

            As Damon scouted around for an observation spot, he found that someone else had already claimed one—that seductive but suspicious girl from the other night. _Daisy_.

            “Blanket under the bleachers,” he remarked, inviting himself to plop down on it beside her.

            “Guess you found the blond,” she commented dryly, but without ire, as she scribbled on her homework.

            Frankly, Damon would rather have taken _her_ home. “She _is_ whiny,” he admitted. “But she doesn’t have grandma issues, unlike _some_ people.” He nudged her deliberately and she gave him a smile that was at once tolerant and sly.

            “I’ve heard _you_ have brother issues,” Daisy noted.

            Damon was not interested in talking about that. “Old news,” he dismissed.

            “Very old,” Daisy agreed dryly and he gave her a sharp look.

            “What’s your last name?” he wanted to know.

            “Fortescue. Any problems with it?”

            He didn’t remember any of them from the town’s founding days. “I don’t _think_ we have any long-running family feuds,” Damon judged. “Of course, a lot of surnames change over time. Though not as often as you would think,” he added dryly. “Where are your people from?”

            “Africa.” Damon glared at her and she grinned. “I moved here from Tampa last year. No roots in the area, so no feuds,” she assured him. “Kind of funny how both you and Stefan wanted to know that.”

            “We know this county. Biggest inbred pack of rednecks,” he claimed meanly, and she chuckled. “We want to make sure we’re _widening_ the gene pool.”

            “Didn’t realize you guys were so intent on procreating with Elena and Caroline,” she teased, and he rolled his eyes. “It’s funny you mention the family histories, I’ve been studying census records for a school project,” she went on. “The Salvatores disappear after the 1860 census and don’t come back until 1910, after the boarding house was built.”

            “History is boring,” Damon claimed. He didn’t like the investigative bent of her mind. “And full of unpleasant things. Like slavery.”

            “And death,” she agreed with that odd, quirky smile.

            He took a moment to parse this. “Yes, people do seem to end up dead a lot in history,” he finally said dryly.

            “Not as often as you’d think.”

            Damon narrowed his eyes at her, his suspicions from last night returning even though she was just echoing his earlier words. “What do you—“ There as a bone-crunching thud from the field and Damon looked up suddenly to see Stefan laid out in the grass. Tuning his hearing he heard Tyler mock him as he hopped back up. Damon waited to see if Stefan got up, though of course, why wouldn’t he? Part of him enjoyed seeing Stefan get knocked on his a-s, part of him wanted to rip Tyler’s throat out—Lockwoods were all the same, arrogant thugs—and part of him wanted to see _Stefan_ rip Tyler’s throat out.

            When he looked back at Daisy he saw that she was gathering up her things. “What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously.

            “I have to get to work now,” she reported pleasantly. She tugged meaningfully on the blanket and he got up, releasing it.

            “Where do you work?” He half-expected her to say the mortuary.

            “The pie shop,” she replied instead. “Stop in for a bite some time. I bet we have your favorite flavor.” With that last flirtatious yet ambiguous remark, she left.

            Oh, he was going to stop in, alright. In fact, he was going to find out everything he could about Daisy Fortescue. Though he had a few other things to attend to first, he decided, turning back to Elena.

 

            Damon’s fork clinked against his empty plate as he set it aside. “Delicious,” he claimed of the cake to Caroline. “Good choice.” Perched on the edge of his chair, practically in his lap, Caroline beamed; if anyone else noticed the edge of sarcasm in his tone, they were too polite to comment on it. That’s what he loved about polite people. “Say, I saw a pie shop downtown,” he went on casually. “With the blue awning? Are they any good?”

            “Yeah, they’re really good,” Elena replied, since he was looking directly at her. “That’s where Daisy works.”

            “Ohhh,” Damon nodded, as if he hadn’t known that.

            “She has to work these crazy long hours to help pay the rent,” Caroline revealed cattily, “because her mom—“

            “Caroline!” Elena and Bonnie chided simultaneously. At that moment the doorbell rang. When Elena got up to answer it Caroline finished her comment to Damon with a universal ‘drinks too much’ gesture and Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Daisy,” Elena greeted, a bit loudly in case Caroline was going to keep gossiping, and Damon turned to see the girl in question stick her head curiously through the doorway.

            “I just came to return your book,” she told Elena, handing her a novel. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were having a party.”

            “Neither did I,” Elena sighed under her breath. “Come on in.”

            Damon tried to watch the newcomer with a bland expression, curious about how she was going to play this. He was seriously questioning whether her appearance here tonight was mere coincidence.

            “Daisy, this is Stefan’s brother, Damon,” Elena introduced as they reentered the living room.

            “Actually we’ve met already,” she revealed easily.

            “Where?” asked Elena in confusion.

            “Oh, back alleys, under the bleachers, other disreputable places,” Damon tossed off, knowing the others would think he was just joking. Unsurprisingly Daisy merely smiled.

            “Would you like some cake?” Elena offered, taking the opportunity to gather up some of the dirty plates.

            “Here, let me help you with that,” Daisy suggested instead. Walking over to Damon and Caroline she held her wrist in front of his face. “Would you like a drink?” He goggled at her in shock for a moment, until she continued a bit pointedly, “Your glass?” Then he realized she was reaching vaguely for his empty glass on the end table beside him.

            “Fine, thanks,” he told her quickly, trying to cover up the awkward moment.

            Daisy and Elena returned from the kitchen a moment later and settled onto the couch. Daisy didn’t seem to mind sitting on the end closest to Damon, which he noticed Elena had purposely avoided. Or maybe that was because Stefan had sat as far away from him as possible and kept his arm around her shoulders. Kind of possessive there.

            “Caroline, that scarf is so cute,” Daisy complimented. “What made you think of it?”

            Caroline’s face went blank—she couldn’t remember what made her think of it, because she _hadn’t_ thought of it. Damon had compelled her to wear it to cover the bite marks, so she had. “It’s the latest trend,” she claimed after a moment, making up in snottiness what she’d lacked in timing. “Everyone knows that.”

            “Compelling reasoning,” Daisy nodded, and that was worth Damon shooting Stefan a look to see if he’d found the comment odd. Stefan was absorbed in glaring at Damon in general, however.

            “Caroline has a very _sharp_ fashion sense,” Damon replied, amusing himself with his innuendos. Caroline chose to take this as a compliment.

            “What was that children’s story about the girl who wore a yellow ribbon around her neck, and when it was untied, her head fell off?” Daisy mused. Now everyone else slowly turned to stare at her, but she didn’t look embarrassed. “Hmm, maybe it’s a Florida thing,” she shrugged.

            Caroline leaned over and patted her knee in a gesture of patronizing concern, then gave Elena a worried look. “So, Stefan,” she went on brightly, “I saw you did really well at football practice today! It’s so amazing, Mr. Tanner almost looked not angry for once.”

            “Well, I’m just glad he let me on the team at this late date,” Stefan replied modestly. Elena squeezed his hand and smiled at him. Damon found it sickening.

            “See, that’s what I’m always telling him, you have to _engage_ ,” he insisted, meaning it to sound like brotherly encouragement.

            “Yeah, Elena didn’t do nearly as well with cheerleading practice today,” Caroline continued off-hand. “Well, it’s just because she missed summer camp.”

            Several expressions said they couldn’t believe Caroline had just said that. “I’ll help her learn the routines, she’ll be fine,” Bonnie insisted defensively.

            “You don’t really strike me as the cheerleading type, Elena,” Damon observed. He really appreciated how Caroline made him seem tactful in comparison.

            “That’s just because her parents died and she’s going through a _blah_ phase,” Caroline chattered, and everyone else seemed to be struck dumb at that point. “She used to be a lot more fun. And I say that with complete sensitivity,” she added awkwardly, finally realizing just how thoughtless her comments had been.

            Daisy swooped smoothly into the silence. “Stefan, I’m on the school paper,” she began, and he started to squirm as he saw where this was going. “I’d love to do a front-page article on you, put some fear into the regional teams when they see it on our website.”

            “You could be _famous_ , Stefan,” Damon remarked, his tone teetering between support and mockery. This was exactly the pitfall his brother hadn’t thought of when he’d foolishly joined up.

            Stefan seemed to be finally realizing this. “Let’s at least wait until after the first game,” he demurred.

            “Oh, if only Dad could see you now,” Damon remarked, watching Stefan’s gaze flicker away guiltily. He’d been saving up his small supply of sincerity for this moment. “You know, Elena, we know what it’s like to lose both our parents,” he reminded her soberly. “In fact, Stefan and I have watched almost everyone we’ve ever cared about die.”

            “We don’t really need to get into that right now, Damon,” Stefan informed him, subtle yet pointed, as the mood in the room dropped.

            “Sorry,” Damon claimed, almost believable. “The last thing I wanted to do was bring _her_ up.” It was all he could do not to smirk as the pain flashed across Stefan’s face.

            “You know, I remember sitting on this couch at your parents’ Christmas party last year,” Daisy recalled warmly. “Your dad was playing the piano and singing, and I think it was your mom that said, ‘Don’t quit your day job, honey.’”

            Elena laughed suddenly at the memory, the tension in the air dissolving. “He was a terrible singer,” she conceded.

            “But a good piano player,” Bonnie jumped in eagerly.

            “And those little sparkly decorations your mom made were so cute,” Caroline agreed.

            “They always made me feel welcome,” Daisy concluded to Elena.

            “You’re always welcome here, Daisy,” Elena assured her, squeezing her hand.

 

            Damon insisted on helping clean up after dinner, mostly as a ploy to stick around longer and slip in some alone time with Elena. Stefan was already getting weird looks from Elena for his tense and humorless attitude since his brother had shown up; he was afraid following the two of them into the kitchen would push her over the edge, so he forced himself to stay in the living room, trying to keep his mind otherwise occupied.

            “That was a nice thing for you to say, Daisy,” he told the girl sincerely. “About Elena’s parents, and the Christmas party—“

            “It seemed an appropriate time,” Daisy replied. Logically she had to mean she was trying to cheer Elena up after the conversation had turned depressing; but her tone somehow didn’t convey that. Then again, she _was_ kind of odd. “Has anyone talked to Vicki lately?” she asked the room at large. Bonnie and Caroline shook their heads. “It’s nice of you to clean up your brother’s messes,” she added to Stefan, and he froze, finally turning to glance at her with a nervous expression.

            “What?” She pointed down at his hands and he realized suddenly that he’d been absently wiping up some cake crumbs Damon had spilled on the table. “Oh,” he replied, trying not to sound too relieved. “Yeah, he’s always been a—slob. Lot of practice cleaning up after him.”

            “Old habits die hard,” Daisy nodded. “Sometimes they don’t die at all.”

            “Yeah,” Stefan agreed slowly.

            “Let’s go see if Elena needs help in the kitchen,” Daisy suggested to Bonnie, taking the napkin of crumbs from Stefan. She apparently knew not to bother inviting Caroline to join them.

            Damon was driven out of the kitchen soon afterwards. Then _he_ had to get rid of Caroline so he could have a private chat with Stefan—which required compulsion, since she was about as far from the domestic type as you could get.

            “They’re not puppets, Damon,” Stefan hissed at him. “They don’t exist solely for your amusement, for you to feed on whenever you want.”

            Stefan was oh so wrong there, in Damon’s opinion; that was practically his core philosophy, in fact. Damon was about to remind him of that when he saw Daisy leave the kitchen and cross to the hall powder room. She shouldn’t be able to hear him, but he lowered his voice anyway and leaned into Stefan. “Have you talked to this Daisy chick much?” he wanted to know. “She’s kinda weird, don’t you think?”

            “Don’t change the subject,” Stefan told him in annoyance, in no mood to be distracted.

            “Fine,” Damon replied, peeved at his unhelpfulness. They needed to stick together after all. To the extent that it didn’t interfere with Damon’s plans, of course. “Humans _do_ exist for my amusement and I will use them however I see fit, because _that_ is what is _normal_ for me…”

 

            Elena knew Daisy would notice the necklace right away and let her stare at it for a few minutes. “Stefan gave it to me,” she finally murmured, pointing out something in the textbook between them. They were at the library during study hall and were only supposed to be talking about schoolwork.

            Daisy leaned closer, eyes on the book. “Does it—smell?” she asked, sniffing slightly.

            “It has herbs in it,” Elena whispered. “It’s kind of ugly,” she confessed guiltily, “but also kind of charming. I could tell it meant a lot to him that I wear it.” They were both quiet for a long moment, though neither was thinking about their homework. At least, Elena wasn’t. “Do you think it’s weird?” she finally asked Daisy.

            “I think Stefan is a really good guy,” Daisy replied slowly, and Elena was surprised at how definite her statement was. “I think he really cares about you and wants to protect you.”

            “Protect me from what?” Elena asked her, finding the words slightly ominous.

            “Good question,” Daisy responded instead, back to her usual cryptic remarks. “I think you should definitely keep wearing the necklace, though.”

 

            Now that he’d been invited into Elena’s house, Damon could come and go from it as he chose, as he’d promised/threatened Stefan he would. He wanted his brother to believe that Elena was in danger from him… and maybe someday, she would be… but for the moment he just enjoyed the freedom to stand in her room while she slept, marveling at how much she looked like Katherine. Though Katherine had never looked so innocent and peaceful, unless it was a trap of some kind.

            He vanished from the room as he felt her waking up but lingered in the yard, watching until her light went out. Then he turned to zip home and—

            And there was Daisy. Standing on the sidewalk outside Elena’s house wearing a brilliant white wool peacoat and carrying a shiny red leather purse. Giving him an expectant look.

            “Of all the sidewalks in all the world,” she finally teased when he just stood there gaping, feeling like he’d been caught red-handed at a crime scene.

            “Are you stalking me?” he demanded in response. That would make a lot of sense, actually.

            She smiled as though this notion were utterly ridiculous. “No, I’m walking home from work,” she informed him tolerantly. “Sometimes I stop to chat with Elena, but her light’s out.”

            Damon glanced back at the house automatically. “I’ll have to take your word for it, _I_ don’t know which one is her light,” he said. Maybe that wasn’t very subtle, but he felt an accusation in her words.

            “Would you like to walk with me?” Daisy offered, and she started to continue past Elena’s house slowly.

            Damon fell in step beside her, burning with curiosity and suspicion. “How far is it?” he wanted to know.

            “About half a mile.”

            He made a face that indicated how stupid he thought this was. “You walk half a mile alone this time of night?” Good to know in case he ever wanted an easy snack, he supposed.

            “Actually it’s another half mile from the pie shop to here,” Daisy corrected. She shrugged. “I like walking.”

            “Buy a car,” Damon suggested rudely. Not that he cared. But a normal person would obviously point out—“There’s been a lot of animal attacks lately.”

            “So I’ve heard,” Daisy replied, her tone implying that she didn’t really buy that explanation for the assaults. “But I expect tonight they’ll be satisfied with Mr. Tanner.”

            “You have a sick mind,” Damon judged, and she grinned a little.

            “It’s a curse.” After a moment she added, “Did you talk to Elena?”

            Yes, and he got smacked for his troubles, he immediately thought. But that couldn’t be what Daisy was referring to. _Or could it?_ “When?” he asked sharply.

            She gave him a look that suggested he was acting a little strange. “Just now,” she clarified. “Weren’t you just coming from her house?”

            He’d zipped out the window to the ground, and he hadn’t seen Daisy standing there when he did so—in that blinding white coat she would’ve been hard to miss. Then again, he hadn’t noticed her approaching down the street, either. Sloppy, very sloppy.

            “No, I didn’t talk to her,” he conceded. “I thought I left something at her house the other night—at the party—“ And why was he taking such pains to make sure Daisy didn’t get the impression he and Elena were having an affair? “And I went back to see if they’d found it. But as you said, the lights were off. So I left.” Yeah, that was lame.

            Daisy nodded as though she accepted the story, however. “Not your ring, I hope.” He glanced down at it automatically. “Hate to wake up in the morning without that.”

            It would be an extra-crispy morning for sure. “What do you mean?” he demanded, since she wasn’t supposed to know anything about that.

            “Stefan has one, too, so I assumed they had sentimental value,” she explained. The reasonableness of her tone made him feel slightly foolish. “Family heirloom. Impossible to replace.”

            “Yeah,” Damon agreed slowly, still assessing her response. They were passing by some vacant lots now at the edge of the ‘nicer’ houses and he thought briefly that this would be a good time to do something bad, if he were of a mind to.

            “How are you and Caroline doing?” Daisy asked, changing the subject completely.

            He grimaced thinking of the chatty blond. “She’s fulfilling her purpose,” he admitted grudgingly.

            “Ohhhhhh,” Daisy remarked, with a knowing little laugh.

            That wasn’t really what he’d meant. “We’re not—“ Then he wasn’t sure what _she’d_ meant.

            “You’re not?” Daisy asked teasingly, with a raised eyebrow.

            “Well, of course we are,” he reversed. He _thought_ she meant, ‘having sex.’

            “Of course,” Daisy agreed, tolerant of his awkwardness. Funny how he never felt _awkward_ around anyone else.

            “But we’re not—serious,” Damon tried to clarify, then wondered why he was bothering.

            “Were you looking for serious?” she asked, guessing the answer was _no_.

            “Not at all,” he confirmed shortly, irrationally peeved at her for confusing him.

            “Then she _is_ fulfilling her purpose,” Daisy agreed sagely.

            The vacant lots turned into closer-packed lower-income houses, many with lights still on; the shrill sounds of late-night TV shows and squalling babies assaulted his sensitive ears.

            “So what do you—“ she started to ask, then stopped and reached for her coat pocket. The buzz of her cell phone was audible even without enhanced hearing. “Excuse me a moment,” she told him politely, opening the phone to check the text message she’d received. He was prepared to be bored and rude, but then he saw the look of genuine irritation on her face. Since she hadn’t gotten irritated at any of the things _he’d_ tried, he was keenly interested in what _would_ work.

            “What is it?” he asked intrusively.

            “My mom lost her job again,” Daisy sighed, punching a text message back. From her attitude he gathered this was not unusual. “She was even sleeping with her boss this time, I thought that would help.”

            “What’s the world coming to?” Damon remarked with dark humor. He didn’t think she would be offended by it.

            She smirked faintly and slipped her phone back into her pocket, stopping to face him on the sidewalk. “I’ll have to say good-bye now,” she announced.

            He glanced at the nearby houses. “Do you live around here?”

            “No, I’m farther down,” she admitted. “But this isn’t going to be pretty, you don’t want to see it.” He kind of _did_ , but recognized he couldn’t really _say_ that. “Also, my grandma doesn’t really like men like you,” she added dryly.

            “Like me?” Damon repeated in surprise. “What do you mean?” Older? Obviously dishonorable intentions? Undead?

            “White.”

            “Oh.” That was a letdown in creativity.

            Daisy shrugged, recognizing that it was rude but conveying that she couldn’t really do anything about it. “She’s kind of…” She seemed to be searching for the right word. “Old,” she finally decided. “And inflexible. Some people can’t adapt to changes.”

            She seemed to mean this in a larger sense. “I can,” Damon felt moved to say.

            “I can, too,” Daisy agreed, with that little smile that seemed to say so much more than her words did. Abruptly she appeared to remember herself and the situation they were in. “Oh, sorry, do you want me to call you a cab? You’ve gone enough out of your way already. I’ll wait here until it comes, this isn’t the best neighborhood.”

            “No, I don’t need a cab,” he assured her as she reached for her phone again. “Why do you walk through it? Do _you_ need a cab?”

            “No, they all know me here,” she told him with a thin smile. She seemed preoccupied by the situation with her mother, which was oddly reassuring to him. It was, for once, a more or less normal reaction. “That’s the Rameys, the Harbaughs, the Bakers, Mrs. Frost,” she went on, pointing out the houses to him. “I walk through here a lot.”

            “Well, I like to walk, too,” he decided. “I’ll be fine.”

            Daisy nodded slowly. “Okay, then. Thank you for walking with me. Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight,” Damon returned, not knowing what else to say. She turned and kept walking, and he turned back the other way and walked to the end of the block… before zipping into the shadows and doubling back around so he could follow her home. Back to her lair, he thought to himself. She was too calm, made too many odd little comments that hit just a little too close to home for Damon, and despite her attempt to shake him off, he was going to see what she was trying to hide.

            Daisy kept on walking, brisk but by no means unnaturally fast, until the sidewalk disappeared and she was just walking along the side of the road. Cars occasionally whizzed by her but didn’t stop, and there was no one else around—except for the vampire following her, of course. Beyond the lower-income houses were larger lots that had once been nice, the homes of the early successful merchants who had lived outside the congestion of town. The houses were larger and not without charm, but mostly in states of disrepair or outright abandoned. Lights blazed from the one Daisy turned towards and even at his distance Damon could hear the overdramatic, not quite sober sobs from inside. Once Daisy went in he slipped closer.

            “Oh Daisy! Daisy, what are we gonna do?” wailed a woman, presumably her mother. “Sam fired me, I can’t believe he fired me! Just because I was late a few times, and that b---h Doris told him I took money from the till!” Daisy moved calmly through the house to the kitchen and her mother trailed behind. “I mean, I _explained_ about the money, I just needed bus fare and I put it back the next day! People do it all the time…” She dropped heavily down at the kitchen table where an older woman already sat. “Oh, my glass is empty,” she realized dully. “Daisy, baby, would you hand me—“

            “Why don’t I make you some dinner, Mama?” Daisy said instead, already pulling out a skillet and some food from the fridge. “I bet you haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”

            “No, I guess I haven’t,” her mother agreed, sniffling miserably. It was pathetic, Damon thought, peering through the back window. Messy and pathetic and hysterical, everything Daisy wasn’t.

            “Oh my G-d, the rent is due tomorrow!” the woman suddenly exclaimed, discontent with remaining calm. “Oh my G-d, how are we gonna pay the rent?!”

            “I dropped the check off yesterday, Mama,” Daisy pointed out tolerantly, frying up some eggs in the skillet. “We’ll look for another job for you tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll find one.” She turned away from the stove and checked something on the counter. “Have you taken your medicine yet, Grandma Rose? Here you go.” She carried a glass of water and a pillbox over to the older woman at the table.

            “Darkness falls,” Grandma Rose pronounced in an ominous tone. “I feel the wings of death brush my face. _Bat_ wings,” she added, practically spitting the words out. It was like the Oracle at Delphi giving a prophecy of doom, while wearing a flowered muumuu and hairnet.

            Daisy did not seem to find this odd and merely kissed her cheek. “Yes, I agree, Grandma Rose,” she told her, without a hint of sarcasm.

            Damon decided he’d seen enough and melted away into the trees, starting to make his way back to the boarding house. Daisy was a crazy girl from a crazy family, he could see that now. She came by her quirks honestly, it seemed. And—disappointed though he might be, oddly enough—it appeared there was nothing more to it than that.

            Probably.


End file.
